


Perfect

by LinguistLove_24



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Illnesses, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 13:29:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11579034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinguistLove_24/pseuds/LinguistLove_24
Summary: Date Night Goes AwrySoS years*REPOST





	Perfect

**Perfect**

 

A smile flitted across his face as tires whirred gently underfoot, he in the back of the car off to himself and the Service in the front seats concentrated on their job of returning him to his destination safely. The destination was home, and after long days away from her, knowing their schedules were finally coinciding he was more than excited to get there. Images of her donning different gowns danced in his mind, caused his smile to become wider. It had been a long time since they'd had a date night. Whatever she wore, he knew she would look beautiful and as he did every second of their sporadic and precious time together, he would cherish her.

 

 

“We're here, sir,” the agent declared as he lowered the division that separated them.

 

 

“Thank you.” Smiling appreciatively, he took a moment to collect himself before opening his door and making his way inside.

 

 

“Hillary?” The entirety of the house proved to be dark upon entry and he tiptoed across the foyer careful not to step on anything that may be lying around, waited for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. The dog bounded out from an unknown location and the unexpected action caused him to trip over his own feet and barrel into her, eliciting a yelp. “Jesus Christ!” He saw the furry silhouette skitter away and cower into a corner.

 

 

Flicking on the lights, he made his way over to her, crouching down and extending a hand whose fingers she sniffed in apprehension.

 

 

“I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean it. No, I didn't,” he said gently as she grazed tongue over long, nimble fingers signifying a truce. Once satisfied that the animal had forgiven him, he raised up off his knees and went in search of his wife.

 

 

“Ummmph!”

 

 

Hearing faint groans coming from the direction of the bathroom, he followed the sound. “Hill?” he called again as he gently pushed the half agape door. Finding her on her knees next to the toilet, upper body sprawled haphazardly across the top of the bowl, he wasted no time in coming to her aid.

 

 

“Are you okay?” He situated himself on his own knees next to her, gently brushing back hair that had clung to the nape of her neck and forehead with the exertion of vomiting.

 

 

“Sick,” she mumbled out, making eye contact with him momentarily before dangling her head back over the bowl.

 

 

“Oh, baby,” he murmured. “How long have you been here like this?”

 

 

“Don't know.” She fumbled over her words, squeezed her eyes shut, gave in to weakness as her body betrayed her.

 

 

“Can you stand if I help you?” He spoke softly, rubbed large, slow circles across the middle of her back.

 

 

“Mm, probably.”

 

 

Nodding wordlessly, he gave her a few moments to collect herself - channel some bit of the strength she still had left – as he raised himself up off the floor and retrieved a cloth from the linen cabinet, half filling with water a cup always situated on the side of the sink.

 

 

“Here,” he said softly, handing her the lightly dampened cloth once he'd helped her stand and situate herself on the lid of the toilet.

 

 

“Thanks.” Dabbing at her mouth with a shaky hand, she felt droplets of wetness provide relief to dry, chapped lips.

 

 

He took the cloth from her and replaced it with the cup; watched her take the smallest amount of liquid possible into a no doubt parched mouth and swish, gargle and spit it out. “I can't keep anything down,” she managed weakly in explanation.

 

 

He nodded gently. “Have you eaten at all?”

 

 

“Not since I got home a few hours ago. I made a sandwich, but I threw it up. I attempted a Popsicle when I just kept dry heaving to try to keep some liquid in my system, but I threw that up, too. I must've picked something up while away.”

 

 

“With how hard you push yourself I'm surprised you haven't burnt out long before now,” he said seriously.

 

 

“Can you help me out of these clothes?” She wasn't sure how long she'd been stationary as such, body turning against her and assaulting her again and again with waves of nausea as she hung her head over porcelain, but she felt grubby and smelled of sick.

 

 

“Yeah,” he said without hesitation, motioning for her to raise her arms as he pulled her turtle neck carefully over her head. “You wanna take a shower?”

 

 

“I can't,” she choked out, hating the feeling of helplessness that had engulfed her.

 

 

“I'll help you,” he offered quickly, looking down at her and hating that he couldn't lessen her suffering.

 

 

“Thank you.” Blue met blue, her orbs shining with adoration and pent up tears.

 

///

 

“You okay?” He felt her frame quiver under the covers next to him despite her being covered by more blankets than he and enrobed in a full set of flannel pyjamas.

 

 

“I'm so cold,” she whimpered, leaning into him and feeling his arms envelop her even tighter against his chest.

 

 

“Well, you have a temperature honey,” he said softly. “As long as you can keep down the tablets I gave you, it should come down soon.” He toyed with her fingers and grazed her arm beneath the covers, felt the abundance of goosebumps that had risen up across her fair flesh.

 

 

“Oh my God, did you just see that?” Some of her voice's usual gusto returned as she stared incredulously and pointed a forefinger toward the scene playing out on the screen.

 

 

“Wait, what happened?” He found the remote and backed Netflix up to where he'd last been paying attention. “I was more fixated on you.”

 

 

She snuggled deeper into the mattress, relishing the feeling of his radiating body heat against her depleted, worn frame.

 

 

“I'm sorry I ruined our date night,” she said sincerely as he replaced the remote on his night table and turned out the light.

 

 

“No, it's not your fault. You didn't ruin anything.” His eyes adjusting to the new state of little light, he caught the shape of an evening gown strewn across the chair of her dressing table where she'd no doubt abandoned it recklessly upon giving in to the first waves of illness.

 

 

“Are you sure? I still feel bad.”

 

 

“Positive,” he said with unfaltering confidence.

 

 

And he was. As much as he'd been looking forward to the night, extravagance wasn't necessary. He'd learned so often throughout their years together that all the fairy tales were a lie, all fights didn't end within minutes or in make up sex, every dinner didn't need to be candle lit. As he lay next to her, ministrations gentle and attentive, he appreciated that real life and love were far from perfect. She was close to it, and simple moments in her presence acting as the man she deserved him to be – this was enough.

 


End file.
